


A Question of Who Started What

by lumosity (strawberry_bee)



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: I'm allowed to bash catholicism i grew up catholic, M/M, Summer Vacation, Truth or Dare, theological discussion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2020-04-23 04:18:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19143427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strawberry_bee/pseuds/lumosity
Summary: Aziraphale finds out that Crowley started the Catholic church during a game of truth or dare.-------“I really didn’t mean for it to go that far. I just kinda...yknow, made an eensy joke to some men at a bar and they, ah, took it too far,” Crowley said, tilting his head back to look at the scant clouds above.“What was that joke, exactly?” Aziraphale asked, trying his best to keep the tension out of his voice.“Something about putting saint’s body parts in the altars,” Crowley mumbled, tipping his face into his drink before taking a massive swig.“You’re the one who started the relics?” Aziraphale hissed.





	A Question of Who Started What

“Truth or dare,” Aziraphale said, swirling his martini so he could watch the sodden cherry in it’s own personal vortex of sugar and alcohol. 

“Eeehhhh, truth,” Crowley said, kicking his leg out to splash a passing fly. They were spending a holiday away from the cottage in the Bahamas. It was okay, they were going to see the swimming pigs, but some tourists poisoned them before they could find the time to book their tickets. 

It was funny, how time became a precious commodity when there was an entire family to worry about. Aziraphale didn’t regret staying behind to see Pepper’s and Brian’s talent show, but he definitely could’ve done without the realistic looking blood. He figured that was Crowley’s idea. He was always supporting the children’s baser instincts for gore. 

“Did you create the Catholic church?” Aziraphale asked. 

“Are you sure you wanna ask that? I mean, it’ll really dampen our last day,” Crowley said, tilting his head so that his sunglasses fell just enough so he could lock eyes with Aziraphale. 

“Of course I would like to know, my dear,” Aziraphale said, already feeling his stomach drop. So that’s what happened to his favorite sect of Christianity. Wiped out by Crowley as a mere joke that became Catholicism. 

“I really didn’t mean for it to go that far. I just kinda...yknow, made an eensy joke to some men at a bar and they, ah, took it too far,” Crowley said, tilting his head back to look at the scant clouds above. 

“What was that joke, exactly?” Aziraphale asked, trying his best to keep the tension out of his voice.

“Something about putting saint’s body parts in the altars,” Crowley mumbled, tipping his face into his drink before taking a massive swig. 

“You’re the one who started the relics?” Aziraphale hissed. 

“Kinda, a little. I mean I had a pretty big influence on the art scene, Caravaggio was the shit. It’s a shame that he died of a fever though, if only he hadn’t apologized to that pompous pissing pope,” Crowley said, setting his emptied drink on the end of the pool. 

“I think I need to lay down,” Aziraphale said, rubbing his eyes. 

“Aw angel, don’t ruin the holiday, you asked after all,” Crowley pleaded in his best form of pleading--which was in the end putting blame on Aziraphale instead of himself. 

“Was the eucharist your idea as well?” Aziraphale asked. If he was already this far in, he might as well go all the way.

“No, actually. They asked about drinking the blood of Jesus, and I said something along the lines of eeuuuCH, christ? And they took it from there,” Crowley shrugged. 

“I can’t believe you,” Aziraphale said.

“Hey, I thought you were going to ask something along the lines about if I frenched some historical so and so, not about Catholicism,” Crowley said.

“You just answered the biggest question that I have been searching for for the past couple centuries. I can’t believe it was right under my nose! Only you would make something as corrupt as them,” Aziraphale bemoaned.

“I didn’t do anything, they did it all. Besides, every sect has it’s issues,” Crowley responded. 

“Yes, well, I’m sure you’re the one that made them question that the serpent, a.k.a. you, were sent on the true God’s orders so that they would have the knowledge to escape the false god,” Aziraphale made a face at the finish of the sentence. He sent a silent prayer up to God for forgiveness. He hoped that she understood why he was grilling Crowley. In the Bahamas. Over fruity cocktail drinks. Debating theology like two long term friends from the philosophy department. 

“No, no that wasn’t me. I do think the humans are pretty smart though. Makes me proud of them, knowing it was me that gave them that smartness,” Crowley said, tapping his temple. He pushed the sunglasses to the top of his head so that he could look at Aziraphale better. 

“I am going to ignore that statement,” Aziraphale said, squinting at Crowley suspiciously. 

“Can’t blame me for trying. One of these days I’m going to get you over to my side,” Crowley said. 

“And adopt a terrible taste in fashion? Please,” Aziraphale said. Crowley lunged for him, and they toppled into the water.

Somewhere in their tussling Crowley lost his sunglasses, and Aziraphale his sense of dignity. Some time later they were back on the edge of the pool, leaning against each other comfortably while peppering kisses on each other’s lips. 

“One last theological question,” Aziraphale said just as Crowley placed his hand on his hip. Crowley groaned, leaning away dramatically. 

“Six thousand years of pining, six years of finally having you, and this is what I earn? Waiting, oh the horror,” Crowley bemoaned. 

“Shush, you. It’s good for you to be tortured every now and again. Reminds you of what your kind is doing to the damned,” Aziraphale said. 

“Shush yourself,” Crowley grouched. 

“As I was saying, were you the one that caused that cult to spring up in the Appalachian mountains? The one where the preachers willingly get bitten by venomous snakes to prove that they can defeat evil,” Aziraphale said.

“Excuse me what?” Crowley shot up, his despair forgotten over the ridiculousness of what Aziraphale had just stated. 

“You heard me. They just let snakes go and bite them and then they suffer and if they die they were not strong enough to defeat satan,” Aziraphale shrugged.

“This church can't really have a high rate of members, given that they’re dying off in droves,” Crowley said. 

“No, well, one would think. They do have a lot of children though. Not enough birth control centers and backwards thinking and all that. But I digress, I’m honestly shocked you didn’t do that,” Aziraphale said. Crowley only shook his head.

“You’d be surprised. Humans have a tendency to do stupid things without me getting involved. That’s how I coasted the past couple of centuries with Hell. They make it so easy,” Crowley said.  
“Hmm,” Aziraphale hummed.

“My turn,” Crowley said suddenly. “Truth or dare?”

“Against my better judgement, dare,” Aziraphale said.

“How long can you hold your breath underwater?” Crowley asked, eyes twinkling with a suspicious amount of innocence. Aziraphale flushed.

“We can find out, if you’d like,” Aziraphale said at last. Crowley hopped into the water, and Aziraphale, red-faced, prayed fervently that whatever miracle that was keeping this part of the resort empty would remain that way. At least until he was done with the dare.

**Author's Note:**

> This was great fun to write. It really didn't fit in with my other multi-chapter work so this is a bit of a one off. Hope you liked it! <3


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